Saturday, December 4, 2021
“I don’t run because I love the feeling of running. I run because it makes me love the feeling of living." -Bonnie Pfiester
On a cold, crisp morning this past weekend, I found myself gathered with several hundred other trail runners in a camp mess hall in Prince William Forest Park in Northern Virginia. We had just learned that an unfortunate shuttle issue would be delaying the start time of our race, the Devil Dog Ultra, by 30 minutes, so there we sat, begrudgingly enjoying the heat a while longer. Although I was upset at first, thinking of the 30 extra minutes of sleep my wife Sarah and I could have had (we awoke at 4:30 AM so she could drop me at the kiss-and-run) I gradually calmed down and decided to make the most of the extra time by making some new friends. After polite small talk with the two guys seated across from me for a bit, I ended up chatting with a woman also named Sarah, who informed me that she was in the Army and would be taking on the 100-mile race today. It was a lot of fun sharing pics and stories of our spouses and dogs with one another to break the nervous energy in the air. Before long, it was time to toe the start line, so we all said our goodbyes and good lucks and headed outside to get ready.
At the start line we listened to a beautiful rendition of the star-spangled banner, although the poor trumpeter was so cold, we could literally hear him shivering through the notes. And then we were off! I quickly dashed to the outside of the herd and surged ahead on the trails, feeling strong and ready for the day. The trails were far more technical than I recalled from a 2019 race I did at the same venue, but I still managed to navigate the first section without any major issues. Before long I came across the first aid station, Camp Gunny, and was feeling so good I just breezed on past it. The volunteers there informed me I was at mile 8.5, which was music to my ears since my Garmin was having trouble accurately tracking the mileage (at the time it read 7.2) and I was very concerned about my pace. From there I hit a nice, wide-open flat section, and was somewhat surprised to not see any other runners in front of or behind me. I cruised for a few miles before eventually hearing the footsteps of a young runner named Tanner, who was polite enough to ask if I minded him trailing me. I told him I would welcome the company and we ended up logging most of the next 10 miles together, during which time I learned he is an avid outdoorsman and Skyracer that has hiked the entire Appalachian Trail. As we headed toward the second aid station at mile 16.5, Camp Toofy, I was very pleased to learn from one of the volunteers that we were in the top 10. We made a brief pit stop for fuel and then took off again, leaving several other runners behind and moving into what I would later learn as 5th and 6th place. From there it became apparent that Tanner was better prepared for this race than I, as he shifted to a whole new level and accelerated ahead, leaving me with some kind words of encouragement.
I ran the next 6+ miles back to Camp Remi solo, which was a mostly enjoyable experience as I passed over many bridges and beautiful streams. The clock read 10:43 AM as I checked-in for the end of lap 1 still in 6th place, a position I would soon relinquish. My pit stop did not go nearly as smoothly as I had planned, as I wasted precious minutes fumbling with my cell phone (I planned to text my wife an update but had no service), found my protein bars were too cold/hard to eat, and forgot to grab my headphones and extra salt tablets. Instead, I settled for a small PB&J square from one of the aid station volunteers and charged back onto the course for lap 2, determined to make up for lost time. Still feeling a great deal of concern about Sarah’s arrival time for lap 3, both frustration and fatigue quickly set in as I slowed to a jog to mess around with my phone again. Miraculously I was able to get service out on the trails near a pond, so after a brief conversation with Sarah to update her, I stashed my phone and charged ahead. Mentally, I was just not there though. For the first time in ages, I actually had thoughts of quitting something. Why am I here? What do I have to prove? I already have the only victory I will ever need through Jesus Christ, and after a beautiful wedding this past July, I now have an amazing wife who loves me. Why am I not with her and Bud (our dog) right now? Am I having fun? With my 40th birthday rapidly approaching, I realized that today’s race might just be a desperate attempt to cling to my youth. Perhaps I’m just trying to prove that I’m not getting older, only better? I sure hope our future children will be proud of me someday. That final thought motivated me immensely, as I sailed into Camp Toofy at mile 36 still hanging in the top 10. I had run out of my favorite energy source, Hammer Espresso gels long ago, so I was very grateful to discover how well this aid station (and all the others) was stocked throughout the day. As a former personal trainer, I have never been a fan of soda or junk food, but in this moment, I was quite happy to down a gigantic handful of Cheez-Itz and a few shots of Mountain Dew. BOOM! Talk about an energy rush. I powered through the rest of lap 2 with relative ease, as the caffeine dulled the pain a bit and visions of Sarah waiting for me at Camp Remi spurred me on.
Spotting Sarah as I made my way up the hill toward Camp Remi at mile 42 filled me with immeasurable gratitude and relief, knowing my chances of success today would be a million times greater with her by my side. Thinking of our first few dates on the trails of Rock Creek Park and Patapsco Valley State Park, it became a lot easier to picture the task ahead as just another fun evening adventure with her than the end of a grueling 100K. After a quick pit stop where she helped me fuel up and gear up for the rest of the journey, we dashed off with shouts of joy and encouragement from some of the spectators. We settled into a nice, relaxed pace, and Sarah did a superb job of keeping me focused while chatting just enough to help me zone out from the pain and mileage. And I absolutely LOVED it! In all my years of running and obstacle racing it was the first time I have ever had someone pace me, and it just made me so incredibly thankful. Truly, “He who finds a wife finds what is good and receives favor from the Lord.” (Proverbs 18:22) We talked about the amazing year we have had, the upcoming holidays, the possibility of becoming parents next year, and much more. She also let me know that I was completely covered in prayer today, as multiple texts and calls from our parents and other friends throughout the day had reminded her. Some of her stories made me laugh, including when I mentioned some of the more arduous uphill sections were “soul suckers.” She jokingly compared them to Dementors, and our headlamps as Patronuses shining into the night (shut up, we like Harry Potter). The miles went by and the temperature dropped, as we did our best to keep moving forward. Since Sarah had never completed a run longer than 16 miles prior to today, the original plan was for her to pace me for the first 2/3 of the lap and then peel off at one of the aid stations to get her car and drive back to meet me at the finish line. Extreme exhaustion had set in for me though, with every little rock or root becoming a nearly insurmountable obstacle, so we made an adjustment to the plan shortly before arriving at Camp Toofy. I was incredibly relieved to hear her say she was willing to persevere, as running alone in the dark for 6 miles through very technical terrain was a terrifying thought. I am honestly not sure I could have done it without her. And so, we pressed on into the night, eagerly awaiting the final turn for Camp Remi and doing our best to stay on the course. I led us astray once or twice, but thankfully Sarah was able to quickly spot the trail markers and get us back on track. At one point she asserted beautifully that if David the Psalmist were to run this race, he would probably compare the “shiny dangly things” (reflective red and white dog tags hanging from the trees) to God’s word that illuminates the darkness for us daily. With that in mind each one became a comforting sight that ultimately guided us to the finish. Ultra-sore, happy, tired, and exhausted, Sarah and I crossed the finish line together at 8:51 PM, 14 hours and 21 minutes after I had started. From there Megan, an incredibly kind-hearted former marathon runner that volunteers to stay connected to the local running community, graciously offered to give us a ride back to our car. Since I could barely stand at that point, she even offered to carry my drop-bin for me. The Devil Dog Ultra aid station support and volunteers were really amazing all day, but she went above and beyond in my opinion. As we drove along, I sipped on some warm chicken broth and downed a protein bar (or two) and with that, my race day was done. Filled with deep pride over my wife’s new long-distance PR (the final lap was 19.5 miles), tremendous gratitude, and an overwhelming amount of love in my heart, I drifted off happily to sleep with the coveted Devil Dog 100K finisher award in my hand. And after a race each of the past four months, I think it’s time for some rest.
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